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When he turned back from her that evening, it was raining. It had been going on since the dawn. He had a stubbornness in face, a race of thunder in his heart, a cloud of despair in his mind and an anticipation somewhere lurking deep inside that she would call him back; much like the rain. Any moment a call would come in the mobile. He stepped slowly towards the auto stand, although he acted busy in front of her… any moment now. His mobile would ring to a call from an unknown but familiar number. A voice would say him to go back once more the place where he left it…left her. Any moment could be that moment. It rained cat & dogs for the whole night and continued till the next three days, as before. The pouring was addictive, reason for elation and time for numb ambition. It will take time to live without. Hard to get back to the forlorn redundancy. But that could not bring back the rain. It did not.

You… How do I define you? I have thought of this many times in many ways. I have a rationale of thinking things over and over. But my IQ failed always at a single point that I reach at a single inference no matter how and what. Every time, I realize that I cannot define you. The way you are, it’s simply out of my imagination. As I am writing this, I’m out of words for you. You have always been more than just a dream for me. A wish, a prayer, a fantasy, a desire.

You…When I saw you the first time, you looked different. I still remember when I called you the first time. The first time I heard you on phone, I swear it was the sweetest voice I ever heard. You jumped in your bed listening to me. You never expected this, eh! The 2nd time, you looked different too! The 3rd, the 4th, the 5th… How many times you looked familiar? You became like an old wine, better with time. Every time I met you, you looked better than before. That photo of yours in maroon, gosh you are gorgeous!

You…always been an inspiration for me. You changed my perspective, my vision, and my ambition.

* * * * *

Mu ducts are dried up. I can’t cry. No matter how hard I try to, all I get is a mere migraine. Then the frustration in me screams what in the world I have achieved. My agony shrieks high. The world has denied me the recognition. For a while you were the one who knew me. But now I am a stranger to you too. You accused me of being selfish and coward. I could not let you go. How could I? I waited very long to catch a glimpse. You will never know the dormant loneliness. And when I finally got you, I couldn’t simply miss you again, could I? At least I thought I got you. Now I don’t know what’s true and whom to believe.

I’m waiting for you in a city which has spread a graveyard for me. They say it’s not supposed to. Irony it is.

Someone saw my hands and said I’d not get the one I loved. I was skeptical. I laughed at his face and said that rubbish. I got my love and she was waiting for me. He drew a smirk on his face and put both my palms together and said to see for myself. My lines didn’t make shape of half a moon. I called him a fool who didn’t know what he was telling. Today I think how dead right he was.

It has been quite a journey for me to know you. What I knew went nihil. What I didn’t, blossomed up quietly somewhere. You had asked me many times to define you. All the time I was speechless. Now I am too. Only difference is, while with you, I was dazzled by my luck. But now, I’m puzzled by my destiny.

What I started writing with, was to put a light into the time, without you. But the serendipity I gained makes me unable. You might have been planning on this for a long time, but I never dreamt of its possibility. May be that is why it has been hard for me to write.. to think.. to live.. to die.

Let’s call me a freak when it comes to food. Whenever I dine out, I try to savor the best of the place. So, I can claim that I’ve eaten and known what’s good in this part of the world.

Biryani is my first choice, if it comes to Indian/Mughal. I do not really need any side dish to go along; saves money, eh! I believe not everyone can prepare a biryani. It takes immense endurance, experience and expertise to make the dish as good as it can be. I’ve been to Kareem’s at New Delhi and Paradise at Hyd, reason being they are best at what they do. After tasting their biryani I’m certain that I’ll settle for no less. I’ve tasted various styles of preparations from Mumbai, Cuttack and Lucknow. After all the experiences for my favorite food, I’ve learnt and taken for granted that a biryani dish should accompany ‘kachumbar‘ (a spicy chopped salad made with onions, cucumbers and churned light curd). That’s what expect at least in Kolkata.

My friends cum accomplices here, constantly bugged me about how the biryani in Kolkata has an authenticity that’s originally prepared the way it is meant to be. They recommended me half a dozen places, which are perceived by them as a place whatever they mean by that. Each place I went following their recommendation, was no less than an experience of numbness to me. I came back, raved and was told that the next place in my list was better. After trying out all the places, my last option was Arsalan.

Let me tell my folk readers, why I’m so cynical here in Kolkata. To me a biryani is good, if it’s accompanied by a curd side dish, the spices among the rice are indistinguishable to my eyes but to my taste buds. The rice should be long and narrow with an aroma and properly cooked, the meat should be soft and delicious but prepared without an intention of making it an eye-gazer. Apart from these the biryani should contain nothing more. None, nihil, nada! In Kolkata, no matter what you order, you will get an boiled egg (what the @#$%^*) and a piece of half a ton potato meant for probable monsters. If I ask the server, where is the Kachumbar or raita, he would scratch his head and ask me numerous questions about what the hell was that about. The people surrounding eating look at my face as if I’ve escaped Uranus and demanding to see the 5th female president of India. After many many embarrassment episodes I refrained and controlled myself from asking such irrelevant questions. So I’m basically a heavy critic when it comes to my favorite dishes and a jacka$$. Got it now?

I had no intention of going to Arsalan which is miles away. After my previous dining combats, I was obviously skeptic. But that day I stumbled across the restaurant because I was in the area. I was famished and dived in. It took me a couple of minutes to realize that I in fact have arrived at the place they have been talking about- ARSALAN! I couldn’t care less for the absence of menu at my table, biryani it is.

The place was literally filled with hungry people. But my order was delivered fast. There were around ten attendants to service you. After 10 minutes of gestation period of my order, the chicken biryani arrived. I knew previously that it comes with a potato at least and without curd side dishes. I pretended to exclude those things from my desires. The rice was nice, warm and tasty. It heeded my taste buds for the recognizable absence of the cardamoms or almonds or mint leaves. Thank god it came without an egg! The whole plate had great smell and I had even a greater appetite. The chicken was cooked edged to a perfection and was thoroughly soft. The flavor of the chicken was…I can’t find a right word..just say wow.

After it was finished I felt like never before in Kolkata. I finally had a hearty meal after a long time. I’d like to recommend it to anyone who’s into biryani to take a spoon. If you ever been in Kolkata, Arsalan is definitely the best bet for your favorite mughal meal.

On holidays, the place is swarmed with foodies. One might have to wait in long queue to get in. Other days, it’s still crowded but less.

Although far from my place, I’ll be always hungry to experience once more at ARSALAN. Till then I’ve to develop my appetite for every otherthing there to go with biryani. 4 stars!!

Tagline: A comedy about taking it one step at a time.Genre: Comedy | DramaDirector:Greg BerlantiStars: Katherine Heigl, Josh Duhamel and Josh LucasTrailer:Life As We Know It

What this is about: Two single adults become caregivers to an orphaned girl when their mutual best friends die in an accident.

What I say: My time now a days are in absolute desolation. I don’t watch movies that regularly, although I collect each n every good looking ones. I’ve been very busy watching the episodes of Man vs Wild, Fringe and House. Even though the movie trailers seem interesting to me, I do not have the energy initially to go through the epistle of the whole hours. Last night I thought of this and was determined to watch something.

The reasons I chose this one is okeyish trailer and FHM #1 Katherine Heigl. The plot here is so common, as seemed from the trailers. But I thought I could use some laughs. The movie starts abruptly. Unusual scene to start really. Then there’re no twists in the story. Two non-coupling singles stay together to take care of their best friends’ baby- sounds Indian! There’s no twists and everything is so predictable in the plot development. Oh, not development because the plots perhaps took a scenic route to come up. A plain story. There were some nice shots for some laughs and giggles.

Josh Duhamel has done his as usual surprised-all time-face acting. He did the same thing in the fantastic series Las Vegas. That’s how he’s familiar to me. I don’t need to see how you transform your reactions. Now the lookety dookety doo Katherine. Splendid acting here. Her greyed anatomy knocked me up! Although she doesn’t like to keep tabs on her weight, still looks beautiful. The chemistry between her n Josh was very good. They both managed to handle the child well. Remember Josh Lucas- the guy who looks a bit like Matthew McConaughey? He’s a good doc and keeps his coolness. Apart from these three, rest of the cast are just worthless addition. I didn’t get why the other people kept popping up without any reason.

The soundtrack is very good. Even a newbie like me will enjoy if he’s into slow rhythms.

If you have got nothing else better or not in a mood to watch a grotesque click, you can take your off with this. Despite many flaws, the movie is still enjoyable and for the starters to this year, an average romcom. I’ll give it a 5/10 as I know it 😉

I’m an MBA. A not(e)worthy accomplice. Oh, almost an MBA till the end of March. My college memories are so much groggy. But there are some experiences which are so much vivid to me that I can make a pulsar. There were times for which I wish to go back in time. Some to experience once more, some to redo and some to recourse. Out of that goblet of gibber jabber, I put a dreadful droplet.

Once during our 1st trimester, our faculty of Organizational Behavior, showed us the above picture and asked us what we thought of that in five minutes. Five minutes… my eidetic five minutes. Many people told stories which started something like, “once upon a time, there lived a king”. Some had no idea what they wanted to say and some went nihil. After some fruitful responses, ma’m stopped the proceedings. If not, some might have sung a lullaby! I would not have waited till. But I.. I saw the picture, thought for like 10 seconds and thoughts came flowing as fluid as F16’s aerodynamics. I wrote them on a piece of paper but before I could finish penning my chaotic cerebration, she rang the bell. Well, here’s what I thought at that time in that five minutes:

“I was raring to go outside. The very dusk was knocking. With the sky filled with darkness of earthly matters, there was no sign of celestial bodies. In the distant, there was a dark cloud lurking. Rain was yet to come, I thought to myself. It was a good thing that I had my umbrella. I should get going. I was not willing to stay inside. Irony. Jumbled in my own thoughts, I set feet towards the dusty red road. The wind was blowing against me, against as my fate was. My misfortune had taken another leap. Today’s incident had shaken me. My heart ached. I felt numbness in my brain and eyes filling. I didn’t want them to succeed. But alas, I had no control upon them, not anymore. May be the dusts were causing it, I tried reasoning with myself. crying was not for me. Fools cry, children cry, cowards cry. I was not any of them. Not me. Not me. While I was roaring inside my cortex, the roar of the wind had numbed my silence. I found myself cold. Ah! ’twas raining. The dark cloud found its way to me. When the dewdrops hit my face, my eyes couldn’t wait. I opened the parasol over my head, tilting front my face. I could see half the view now. The pouring was getting harder. In a freezing breeze, my legs were trying to find the pieces of the road. I struggled to keep the umbrella together. But there was no point. I was drenched. My face was wet and was about to turn red just when I couldn’t feel a thing. Trying to be saved from rain perhaps. Because I was crying no more. At least none could feel.”

When ma’m inquired if there were any more to speak forward, I hesitated. I rooted to my seat. I felt coldness in my breath and rapid in my heart. What if she discovered a facade in my tone? What if others laughed? What if it was inappropriate or wrong interpretation? I chose to keep my thoughts to myself. Now after so many days, I wonder if I was right in doing so. But I’m willing to learn how others do it. That day could have been rewarding, maybe not. Ignorance is bliss…or is it??